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Chapter 15 - Chapter 15: The Ice Beneath the Surface

Ian Moore's house was exactly what Yuuji expected—clean lines, silence, and cold lighting. The living room was minimalist, the bookshelves arranged by color and size. Everything about it screamed control.

So, naturally, Ren dropped his bag onto the pristine white couch with zero hesitation.

"Dude," Ian muttered, visibly restraining a twitch.

"You invited me," Ren said sweetly. "You knew what you were signing up for."

Kenji, already seated at the glass table, pretended not to hear. Will offered polite smiles as he unpacked snacks. Rio arrived last, flopping onto the rug dramatically like a prince tired of existing.

Yuuji sat near the end of the table, trying to keep his nerves quiet. He could already sense it—the temperature between Ian and Ren was dropping by the minute.

"I thought we were supposed to have our final draft ready," Ian said, tapping the table with a pen.

"We do," Ren replied, stretching out. "Well, most of us."

"You submitted yours late."

"Only by fifteen minutes."

Ian's voice clipped. "Deadlines aren't suggestions."

"Oh," Ren said, biting into a rice cracker. "I thought they were more like... passionate whispers."

Yuuji glanced at him. Ren wasn't in a teasing mood today—not really. He was pushing Ian's buttons deliberately.

And Ian? Ian looked like he was holding back fire.

"Why are you even in this group if you're not going to take it seriously?" Ian snapped.

Silence fell. Kenji froze mid-typing. Will's brows lifted.

Rio sat up, sharp now.

Ren stared back, smile gone.

"I'm sorry," Ren said coolly. "I didn't realize performing well in presentations and contributing ideas counted for nothing unless I bowed to your checklist."

Ian rose from his chair. "You think this is about control?"

Yuuji stood up. "Hey. Stop."

They both turned to him.

"Ren's obnoxious," Yuuji said plainly. "But he's not wrong. He's pulling his weight."

Ren blinked.

Ian looked between the two of them. Something in his expression cracked—brief, unreadable.

"Fine," Ian muttered. "Let's get this over with."

---

The meeting resumed, now heavy with unspoken tension. Edits flew between laptops. Notes were rearranged. The document transformed slowly.

But Yuuji kept glancing at Ren.

Because Ren had gone quiet.

Too quiet.

---

When the meeting finally ended, and everyone else packed up, Yuuji lingered behind as Ren walked out onto Ian's back porch. The night air was cooler than usual. Stars peeked through Tokyo's smog, fragile and blinking.

"You okay?" Yuuji asked, joining him.

Ren didn't look at him.

"Ian reminds me of someone I knew in middle school," he said quietly. "Someone who thought I was too loud. Too much."

Yuuji leaned on the railing beside him.

"What happened?"

Ren gave a weak laugh. "He spread rumors. Said I hit on him. Said I made him uncomfortable."

Yuuji felt his chest tighten.

"I didn't," Ren added. "I liked someone else entirely. But that didn't matter."

Silence.

"I thought it would blow over. But it didn't. For a whole semester, people looked at me like I was some freak. I stopped talking. Stopped drawing. I still hate school bathrooms because of it."

Yuuji didn't know what to say. He had never seen Ren like this.

Vulnerable.

Raw.

And real.

"Ian's not like that guy," Ren said, finally looking at him. "But when he talks like he's better than everyone—when he makes me feel like I don't belong—it's like I'm back in that hallway again."

Yuuji's throat tightened. He reached out without thinking—fingers brushing Ren's wrist.

Ren looked down at their hands. Then back up at him.

"I don't think you're too much," Yuuji said.

For once, Ren didn't joke.

"Thanks," he whispered.

---

Inside, from behind the glass door, Ian stood with his tablet in hand.

Watching.

Expression unreadable.

---

Later that night, Yuuji lay in bed staring at the ceiling.

He remembered the way Ren's voice had trembled. The way his hand had felt—warm, but hesitant—in his.

And he realized something unsettling.

He didn't want to fix Ren.

He just wanted to be the one who stayed.

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